The Soulmate Tattoo
by Ethan-Silas
Summary: Marauders AU, no magic [except for the tattoos]) Everyone got the tattoos. No one knew where the came from, or why, but they appeared whenever something big happened. But everyone, invariably, got the Soulmate tattoo on their eleventh birthdays; the first thing their Soulmate would say to them in the exact place they would first touch. Unfortunately for James Potter, his sucks.
1. The Big Day

It was probably the coldest day since spring began, James noted, as he reclined in his big swivelling chair. It should be a lot busier than it was, despite being a Monday.  
Still, even with the lack of business, James couldn't help from being particularly upbeat. Nearly everything in his life was perfect, and it was all thanks to hard work, three best friends, and a bit of money. His business, Marauders' Coffee and Cake Shoppe, was doing extremely well, and after just a year and a half he was almost a quarter of the way done paying of the loan to his dad. His friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, were happy, young bachelors- just like him- and they were always together. He had no enemies, now that he and Severus Snape were on better terms, and his old mentor, Albus Dumbledore, was doing well and had even taken to visiting MCCS whenever the school took their trips to Hogsmeade.  
In fact, James Potter could think of only one thing in his life that was less than preferable; his Soulmate tattoo. It made his ear itch, literally- that's where it was, tucked behind his ear. He remembered waking up on his eleventh birthday, for the three trillionth time since the incident occurred.  
His eleventh birthday had been 27 March, 2000, the last Monday of the month. He'd refused to sleep, but lay in his bed at his mother's request. She was an old lady after all; peace of mind was the least he could give her. He watched the clock until midnight, thinking about the story his father'd told him; he, on his eleventh birthday, had also sat up waiting for his tattoo to appear. It had happened right at midnight; a nice, tingling tickle on his forehead. He'd ran to the mirror as soon as it was done and eventually worked out the backwards letters; You're the silliest person I've ever met, I reckon. He'd grinned wickedly and went right on to sleep, satisfied. He remembered mum's story, too- waking up early to run to the mirror and see words on her forehead. She'd been upset at where it was, and she couldn't read it, so she'd ran to her own mother.  
He could picture their tattoos, scrawled in the other's handwriting. Mum's said, "I'd bloody hope I am." in his father's elegant, cursive writing. Dad's was in her big, girly scribble.  
James had gulped as the tingles started on the backside of his left ear, and groaned loudly. He couldn't wake up his parents; dad had a big meeting tomorrow, being a hotshot inventor of new medicines, vaccines and treatments, and mum had to meet with the Headmaster of his soon-to-be Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, very early in the morning. He fell asleep around two a.m, stroking his tattoo tiredly.  
The next morning he rushed out of his room to see his father sipping at tea. James had ran up to him, and he'd set down his cup.  
"Why, hello, son. Where'd you get your tattoo?"  
"Behind my ear. I need you to take a picture of it so I can see!" The boy had promptly spun his small, thin body, and pulled his ear forward.  
His father had coughed, then touched James' arm. "A... Alright, son. Prepare yourself."  
The picture he'd seen had burned itself into his brain. You are the worst fucking human being to have ever plagued this earth! Was seared into his body in the prettiest, neatest scrawl he'd ever seen.  
It was then he vowed to be as wonderful as he physically could- he'd stopped using his allowance for candy and toys and made sure to give it to the homeless people who lived on their way to the market. He'd stopped teasing the girls on the playground and he'd started apologizing to everyone who would listen, and even sometimes those who wouldn't.  
Soon after he'd gone off to Hogwarts, a private school with four separate housings into which people were sorted by their personalities through a series of personality tests. Dorms were two people each, the same gender, for the most part made alphabetically.  
But, when he arrived, there were three beds, not two- and one held a boy with dark hair and even darker clothes.  
"Oh, hey," the boy had said. "I'm Sirius Black, nice to meet you."  
It turned out that Sirius' letter telling the school that he was, indeed, to attend had gotten lost in the mail and they'd had to enroll him last minute. For some reason that James still didn't understand, his best friend had been dropped into his lap by being dropped into his dorm.  
They soon grew to be the best of mates, and Peter definitely wasn't stranger to them. They each brought something to the friendship; when James was upset over his tattoo, Sirius would paint him pictures of sunrises, sunsets, mountains, valleys, lakes... All of James' favorite things. Peter would leave him little chocolate delicacies; some homemade from his family's Swiss recipes, some bought from Hogsmeade. When Sirius was upset because of his hateful, prejudiced family, James would sneak them all out and go to his house, where his father's Honda Goldwing 2010 GL1800 sat. Sirius loved to just admire it, but he always denied whenever James offered him the chance to sit on it. he didn't want to ruin it. Peter would play cards with him and make him sudoku's; two of Sirius' favorite things, neither of which James was even slightly good at. When Peter was upset, James and Sirius would put on bad eighties movies and they'd all sleep in the same bed. Peter's favorite was the Breakfast Club; he'd joke that Sirius was Bender, James was Andrew and he himself was Brian. It wasn't entirely inaccurate, either; James had a thing for football, Peter was a giant nerd, and Sirius was a hardcore punk with daddy issues.  
But not everything was perfect. Severus Snape and Sirius Black hated each other, and one day, Snape brought James into it.  
"You're a filthy, self-centered, selfish, egotistical, apathetic, loser," hissed Snape to a laughing, 15 year old Sirius.  
"Look, everyone just needs to calm down and-" James started, but Snape interrupted.  
"And your mate's a nasty, spoiled little brat who's never deserved anything in his life! You're both a plague on this school-"  
But Sirius had silenced the bitter Slytherin with a fist to the mouth, and for the remaining two and a half years of Hogwarts, James Potter had made an exception of Severus Snape.  
However, after Hogwarts, that was all put behind them. Peter had come up with the brilliant idea of opening a coffee shop- James had always been much more fond of coffee than tea- and they'd done it, too. On July 31, 2017, in Hogsmeade, they'd opened Marauder's Coffee and Cake Shoppe, a small brick building with two offices, a kitchen, two bathrooms and of course a lobby. The interior walls were the same quaint, cozy brick as the exterior, and the floor was unstained hardwood, the same warm brown as the counter. There were six small, round tables with three chairs each, all wrought iron. It was cute and cozy, and they were saving up to put a fireplace in it.  
Peter, what with his Swiss heritage from his mother, was the chocolate master, and also specialized in all of the cakes, croissants, cookies, and all the other pastries in the shop. James, with his coffee connoiseur skills and creativity, took care of all the mochas, lattes, frappuccinos, espressos, and plain old coffees in the shop, as well as teas and hot chocolates. Sirius, the big ol' nerd, ran the back of the house.  
But they needed a cashier, and so one day, James put out an ad in the paper... Which was answered by none other than Severus Snape. Against all of Sirius' judgement, James hired him.  
And now, here they all were. Sirius was in his office, doing whatever Sirius did at work (he didn't tolerate interruptions), Peter was in the kitchens, baking and replacing old pastries, Snape was behind the counter, to take orders, make coffees and serve pastries as well as clean the bathrooms and lobbies, and James was in his own office, on break. When he was on duty, he usually made the coffees for Snape, but they were too slow for four people to be on shift at once. But James didn't really mind, really... He'd never actually had a break before.  
But it wouldn't last long. Outside, in the lobby, trouble was brewing.  
Lily Evans had just walked in with her best friend- Remus Lupin. They were here to celebrate Remus' being accepted as a Supernatural Studies professor at Hogwarts, their old school. She strutted right up to the counter, not once wincing when she saw the barista was none other than her ex-best friend, Severus Snape.  
"One extra-large triple chocolate fudge frappuccino and one medium earl grey tea," Lily said. "As well as two pain au chocolats."  
"£11.64, please," Snape said, eyeing her in a way that made her uncomfortable. Remus dropped the money on the counter and took his receipt, then led Lily to the table farthest away from Severus Snape, where the gentle smooth jazz that played was quietest.  
Remus didn't respond to Lily's gentle prodding voice earlier, and only because the stress applying for the job that Remus had experienced, she didn't try to start conversation.  
She felt Snape's eyes on her and sighed to herself.  
They'd been best friends even before Hogwarts, having grown up in Cokeworth only a few streets apart. He'd fallen in love with her, and had even memorized her first words to him- Hi... I'm Lily Evans, and you are?- and where she'd first come in contact with him- the right palm, when she'd shaken his hand. He'd also took to heart his own first words to her- Snape. Severus Snape.  
But on Snape's birthday, 9 January, he had not gotten Hi... I'm Lily Evans, and you are? on his right palm. Instead, on the exact same place, he'd gotten If you've a ready mind, I reckon I'd let you work for me. He'd been heartbroken and refused it.  
He'd been very upset, but still asked her what her own tattoo was when her birthday, the 30th, came around- on her right index finger was, I didn't write that,  
And then Hogwarts... That had been Remus' first words to her, but his first contact with him had been when she'd smacked him across the face- with her left hand- after he'd supposedly broken the heart of one Mr. Frank Longbottom... Who'd actually hurt Remus. And her first words to him had not been You alright, mate? as was written clearly on his chest, but "You little prat!". Still, Snape had never forgiven Remus for that and had assumed he was just looking to steal Lily from him.  
Finally, one day in the middle of fifth year, she'd broken all ties to him. She'd witness him insult Sirius Black and James Potter- two boys in their year she'd never felt the need to talk to- only to get himself punched. He was too volatile... Lily didn't want that in her life.  
And now here he was.  
"Your croissants are ready," Snape said. Lily went up to retrieve them. "You look good, Ms. Evans," Snape said quietly, sadly, as he pushed a plate with two chocolate croissants to her.  
"Thank you, Severus," she said cordially, then walked off with her and Remus' food.  
Meanwhile, Remus was thinking of something entirely different; namely, his own experience receiving his Soulmate tattoo.  
He'd completely forgotten it was his birthday, because mum and dad had been fighting all day and hadn't said a word to him. He'd eaten leftover bangers and mash and had full reign of the television.  
He'd stayed up late, as usual, and around midnight he'd felt a tingle on his breast; he'd pulled off his tank top to see words forming right before his very eyes in a sprawled out, cursive writing, and he'd remembered- it was his birthday. The words had said, You alright, mate?; something people always asked him. He had a very grumpy and sad appearance, and was also very gawky and clumsy. Remus had sighed and gloomily returned to his program.  
"Coffee's done," Snape said, and Remus went up to get it. Snape dropped it, quite purposefully, all over Remus.  
"Bloody fuck," hissed Remus as pain seared down his body. A blond, chubby man came out, saw this, and tsk-ed at Snape before knocking on a door to the left of the counter. A rather attractive man around their age came out and sighed.  
"Snape…" He said, then sighed again. "Apologize and get the poor bloke some towels."  
"It wasn't my fault, I-"  
"It bloody was!" Lily cried from their table angrily, and Remus knew she would physically fight Snape if she came any nearer. She was fiercely protective over Remus.  
Snape plopped a cup for James to use and then got towels while James apologized to Remus, making him a new coffee and offering him a free beignet, which Remus took. Lily had a crazy sweet tooth. The blond, whom James called Peter, went into the kitchens to make it fresh.  
"There you go, sir," James said with a bright smile. Remus managed to return it. "Sorry about that, again."  
"... Yeah," Remus managed, taking the coffee back to his and Lily's table. James went into a door to the left of the counter.  
But something caught his eye- writing. He looked down to see, You're a freak and a monster, and she deserves better than you scrawled in rather appalling chicken scratch. Remus sucked in a breath, trying not to let Lily know- she'd freak out- but of course, she noticed.  
"What?" she asked with a smile, but then it faded and she snatched the cup and saw the writing. "Who did this! Who gave you the cup?"  
"James, but-"  
Lily promptly stood and rushed into the right office.  
Sirius had been sifting through several job applications by the filing cabinet when James barged in. He didn't look up, but annoyance bloomed in his chest and he pushed his reading glasses up.  
"The prettiest girl I've ever seen is in our store, Padfoot,"  
"That's nice, James. I'm working, so go take your break with the pretty girl."  
"She's with a guy though," James sat across from Sirius. "He could be a friend though, right?"  
"Did she call you the worst-"  
"No, she didn't speak to me." James itched his ear unconsciously, the way he did whenever Sirius mentioned his tattoo. Sirius took off his leather jacket and flexed his arm, unknowingly revealing his own tattoo in the crook of his elbow.  
"Well, spill a drink on her or something, or insult her hair."  
"Her hair is perfect, and Snape already spilled on her friend. Oh, I remade his coffee and gave him a free beignet for that." Sirius glared at James and wrote the issue on the list of replacements, something Sirius wanted to keep very, very short.  
"What color?"  
"As red as the beautiful sunset you painted me last week," James smiled charmingly, and Sirius hooted a laugh.  
"It's dye," tsked the punk teen.  
"No, you don't-"  
Suddenly, however, the ginger barged in and looked directly into James' eyes.  
"You are the worst fucking human being to have ever plagued this earth!" She shrieked at him. She took him by the ear with her hand, dragging him closer, and he howled in pain. Sirius almost laughed, but restrained himself. A tall, lanky guy around their age followed. He couldn't believe James'd already found his soulmate… Or that she was pretty, like, at all. James was a ait.  
The boy was probably taller than Sirius- who was 192 cm- and even thinner than James, who was just under 60 kg at 178 cm. He had a mess of brown hair, shaved thin on the sides with a couple inches of curl on top. He was pale with bright brown eyes, almost yellow/orange, and a centimeter or two of fuzz on his cheeks. He wore a blue polo atop brown capri slacks and and violet bracers (suspenders) and brown loafers. He looked very hipster.  
The girl had vibrant red hair that looked surprisingly real, as well as glittering tan skin and a mess of slightly darker freckles. She wore an orange turtleneck under a brown jacket and browns slacks, as brown pumps.  
The girl plopped down a cup of their coffee, which splashed a bit over. There was writing on it; You're a freak and a monster, and she deserves better than you.  
Instinctually, Sirius knew it was Snape's writing.  
"I didn't write that," James said in a pained voice, and the ginger winced.  
"Snape must've," the hipster said in a low, angry voice. "As I've been trying to say, but Lily-"  
"We're!" Lily, the ginger, said suddenly, releasing James. "We're Soulmates!"  
James looked up at her for a moment, blinking stupidly, then grinned wickedly.  
"Oh, bloody hell," the brunet said. He stepped forward, going for his coffee on Sirius' desk, and tripped right at Sirius. The latter caught the clumsy hipster, elbow hooking under his chest.  
"You alright, mate?" The co-owner asked, hefting the hipster to his feet.  
"Remus! What if it's him! He touched your boob," Lily said with a doofy grin. James chortled.  
"It's not."  
"Say something to him!" Lily commanded. Remus obviously did not want to, but Lily did not seem the type to take no as an answer. Remus the Hipster turned to a very amused Sirius, who wiggled his ears; his long hair was, indeed, in a manbun. Maybe, just maybe…  
"I doubt it's you, manbun," Remus said dubiously. Sirius laughed, long and hard.  
"No frigging way," James said with awe. "No frigging way."


	2. Chartreuse and Room Service

Lucius Malfoy absolutely hated being dragged by Mother to her ridiculous wine-tasting events. It was because he was so eligible, she said; so desired by the girls of his generation. No girl he'd ever met, however, had ever sparked any real fancy in him, especially in the liquor aspect of his very specific tastes.  
Not that he'd ever put up a token protest; now that Father had passed, he had to be a man and act as the man of the Malfoy name; now that Father had passed, he was the man of the name. He'd never expected to be at so young an age- twenty eight!- and never as a bachelor. However, he hadn't really imagined himself a bachelor at such an age; the only good aspect of that was that there were few women left in his generation to be his future wife.  
One here that Mother wanted him to seek out was Miss Narcissa Black, daughter of Cygnus and Druella (nee Rosier) Black. In her photographs, she was lovely, and in description, she was just as well, but Mother talked up every lady and Lucius knew it was probably tenfold due to the fact that Druella Black was mother's childhood friend.  
However, twenty minutes into the onset of the get-together and Lucius was incapable of finding the lovely bachelorette, and he stood sipping on some rather tawdry white wine.  
He felt almost a spark as a slight hand touched his left shoulder blade- that was-  
"Rather undesirable, yes? I much prefer chartreuse," Lucius spun around to look down at a girl with glittering, almost playful white-blue eyes.  
Lucius had to force himself to speak. Pictures didn't do her justice. "Hm? Oh- I- yes... Chartreuse is my favorite."  
Narcissa Black gave a small shudder and hugged her thin frame. She wore a royal blue day gown, her white-gold hair done half up, the bottom half in ringlets. "Not to be so very straight forward, my kind sir, but what, pray tell, is your Soulmate Tattoo?" Even with a shaky voice, Narcissa sounded strong and frisky.  
"Exactly what you just said to me," Lucius said. "On my left shoulder blade. And you, my fair woman?"  
Narcissa gave a small giggle and offered her right palm to him; there, he read his own first words to her.  
Lucius inhaled sharply and smiled. Without a proper thought, he set his glass down and reached into his jacket pocket, where was his mother's ring box. He was now glad she all but forced him to carry it around with him. He dropped to one knee and presented it; outright shock lined her gorgeous, flawless face, and she laughed with an airy pleasantness that almost made Lucius sigh contentedly. He felt like a fool, but a damned giddy one!  
"Narcissa Draconia Black, will you be so charitable to do your soulmate the honor of marrying him?"  
"I will," the girl smiled out and offered a small, slight hand. Lucius slipped the silver, diamond-and-emerald ring onto her hand. There was polite clapping, though the host- Mrs. Gemma Bulstrode- looked rather annoyed.  
Narcissa winked Lucius' way.  
Lucius looked far happier than normal to Evan Rosier as he strolled into their hotel.  
"Did your old coot of a Mother finally croak?" Evan asked with a raised brow.  
Lucius gave a sardonic smile to Evan before opening the door for a woman leaving the lobby. "No, thank you very much. You're welcome, ma'am."  
Evan snapped and leaned back in his chair. Lucius shook his head; he'd never approved of Evan, a rich and highly esteemed man who co-owned this place, playing lobby man. However, Evan had nothing else to do most of the time; his staff was very amazing and had been given the independence of thought, so there was hardly anything to manage. Lucius took up the money things; rent, what needs buying, what needs selling, who needs hiring, who needs firing. He was on the lookout for someone for room service, since he was planning on firing that pratt Gilderoy.  
"I'm engaged," announced Lucius, and he straightened and fixed his collar dramatically. He looked like a downright fool, and Evan grinned.  
"Who's the unlucky lady?" Had anyone else told Evan they were engaged, having been single the morning before, Evan would have been shocked. Coming from Lucius, however, it was hardly even surprising; he was impulsive, traditional in the sense that once you met your soulmate, you married, no questions asked, and completely and utterly lonely.  
"The beautiful maiden is one Miss Narcissa Black, whom I believe is your cousin?" Lucius' silver eyes twinkled mockingly at Evan, and the latter groaned.  
"You sly dog," remarked Evan. "I can't believe her destiny has been burdened by your inclusion in it," Evan shook his head and laughed.  
"What?" Lucius laughed out, crossing his arms and smiling. "I do beg your pardon?"  
"What, did you woo her with your nasty taste in drinks? Wiggle those unmannerly brows at her? Grin those horse teeth her way?" Evan was near hysterical now, and Lucius whacked him in the arm.  
"You should be reminded that I beat you in Woman's Weekly's 'England's Most Eligible Bachelors' this year," countered Lucius.  
"You were in third place, behind that git James Potter and your best mate, Rodolphus Lestrange!" Evan was laughing.  
"Well, you were in sixth, behind those two, me, and Sirius and Regulus Black," Lucius scoffed.  
"Because they're richer than me! You're richer than Potter and Lestrange, but since you look like a horse-"  
"Cissa doesn't think I look like a horse," said Lucius defensively. Evan laughed again, and Lucius sighed, still smiling.  
Lucius walked away suddenly without a goodbye and Evan rolled his eyes. The man had ADHD, Evan assumed; he moved constantly, fled from room to room, and gave passionate albeit all over the place lectures to anyone with an ear to listen. He was utterly enjoyable, however childish and impulsive he tended to be.  
Evan glanced around the giant, grand lobby. He was behind the desk which lined one wall, and seven lobbyists sat in a chair, including Evan. He was the closest to the door, and while every other had a patron to help, they usually avoided him; he was usually typing or calling or something, and he didn't wear the uniform that all of the other employees, with the exception of himself and Lucius, wore. The desk itself was pure steel, giving it a cool, industrial look, and the floors were polished concrete. The walls were white, the light fixtures and mailboxes, doors and window panes black. The worker's uniforms were white and golden. Evan himself wore grey jeans, a black t-shirt, and black boots, his short blond hair slicked back, his glittering silver-blue eyes outlined by pale skin and colorless lashes. His lips were a light manila. The lobby was unusually full; everyone apparently had mail, and for a Monday, there were rather a lot of check-ins and -outs.  
Gilderoy Lockhart rushed out of the elevator and Evan glared involuntarily. The man walked right up to Evan, but the latter didn't bother sitting up or neutralizing his face. Lockhart winced and didn't meet his eyes.  
"Sir," the room service man said. "The guests are complaining about a man down in the alley, he said he refused to move. I told him it's private property, but-"  
Evan waved him off. "Go. I'll take care of it," Evan bit back the insult he had been about to add and stood, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on- it had started raining, if the windows had any say about it. He then started towards the exit to the alley.  
Meanwhile, the man in the alley sat miserably in the rain.  
Severus Snape had never been good at thinking things through. Whenever he became really and truly furious about something, he lashed out; it really was something he ought to fix. Now, he was jobless as well as homeless, and he'd dived into an alley for shelter from the rain only to find none. Defeated, he'd sagged onto his bum to wallow in his misery a bit. He covered his face with his hands and sat, thinking about how horrible he felt because he hadn't anything to lose from procrastinating finding the solution a bit.  
However, about twenty minutes after he'd started, a babbling git from the hotel behind him had come out and tried to get him to leave. Snape had basically told him to sod off, and he'd left.  
Now, it had been another ten minutes, and Severus was no closer to moving. He heard the door open again and refused to look up.  
"I'm homeless, unemployed, ugly, hated, and lonely. You can look at me like that all you want, sir, but I assure you, I am not moving until one of those is remedied." Snape said without giving the man a chance to speak.  
There was a solid fifteen seconds of silence before the stranger replied. "I reckon I'll let you work for me, if you've got the good half of a brain."  
A spark of familiarity hit Snape in the chest, and he did look up to see a rather attractive man looking down at him with a funny expression. The blond offered him a strong hand, connected to a strong, veiny forearm, connected to a muscular bicep. Snape took it and the blond helped him to his feet.  
"That's on my Tattoo," Snape said quietly.  
"Yours is mine," the man in the jeans and hooded jumper replied. They looked at each other for a long time. "I'm Evan Rosier."  
"Severus Snape." Evan Rosier had smooth, porcelain skin, full, manila lip, light blue-grey eyes, pale eyelashes and brows, one of which had a scar, and light golden hair. His face was, indeed, handsome, his jaw strong. He had a thick neck and thick chest, between which were broad, strong shoulders. He wasn't particularly tall, and he was the same height as Snape.  
"Please, do come inside," Evan said, waving the man in.  
Evan studied this Severus Snape with interest and amusement. The man was properly drenched from the rain, long black hair clinging to pale skin, large, lidded black eyes surrounded by purple-ish bags. He had full, colorless lips, slightly dry, and he wore all black. He wasn't hideous, but Evan wouldn't really call him a stunner, either.  
"Why haven't you a job or a house?" Evan asked as he led Severus into the men's room and paged Regulus, the manager of room service.  
"I don't have a house because my flat needs proof of income," He glared distastefully into the mirror a moment before looking back to Evan, who was unassumingly storing that tidbit of information into his head. "I don't have a job because I'm an idiot."  
Evan raised a brow and leaned against the counter, waiting for Severus to elaborate. It was a solid two minutes before he did.  
"I... Used to be in love with a girl named Lily Evans. She's got a friend named Lupin, and I hate him. They came into my work- a coffee shop in Hogsmeade- and I kind of... Threw coffee at him and insulted him."  
Evan raised the other brow and grinned in amusement. "Kind of threw coffee at him?"  
Severus glared harshly at Evan before Regulus pushed open the door. "Yes, sir?"  
"Fetch me a towel or two, and some clothes for this man." Evan instructed.  
"I'm afraid our pile of clothing for the homeless has depleted," Regulus said sarcastically. Evan gave Regulus a deadly stare to let him know he wasn't in the mood, and Regulus grew solemnly. "From where?"  
"Grab them from my room. The door's unlocked."  
"Yes, sir." Regulus, Evan's best mate, left for the clothing and towels.  
"Take your clothes off," Evan instructed Severus after the door closed. Snape narrowed his eyes even more than they naturally were lowered.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Oh, please. We're Soulmates. I'll see you in the nude eventually, and you're shivering in those clothes."  
Severus scowled and slowly peeled off his clothing; first his jacket, then his trousers, his shirt, undershirt, and, finally, his pants, revealing a bare, thin body.  
Evan studied him. His skin was all the same shade of pale as shit, but small black hairs lined his legs and groin and a happy trail led up to a slightly hairy chest. His body wasn't strong, nor fat, nor bone thin. His nipple were lavender though Evan was sure it was due to coldness, and his prick was small and soft, circumcised and trying to hide beneath his hair.  
Evan shrugged off his own jacket and handed it to Snape, who pulled it on and moved into the tub. Evan laughed as he pulled the curtain closed, and was still laughing when Regulus returned, after Severus had cursed at him several times for it.  
Regulus gave Evan a confused expression as he handed him the clothes, but Evan mouthed 'later' to the man and thanked him. When Regulus left once more, Evan yanked the shower curtain back to see Snape sitting cross-legged on the tub floor, and he laughed again.  
"You're fucking annoying," seethed Snape, who stood and threw off Evan's now-wet jacket.  
Evan set the clothing and towels on the counter. "Go ahead and shower. Head to the lobby when you're done," Severus nodded slowly, and Evan looked at him a while more. "Is there a nickname you prefer?"  
"Just Snape," the man said, and Evan nodded.  
"Alright, Just Snape," Evan said quietly. After no one spoke for a good three minutes, and Snape just stood there limply, head bowed and face hidden by hair, Evan walked out and went towards Lucius' office. He knew Lucius wouldn't deny him, but it was technically up to him, not Evan. He laughed when he realised the men had found their soulmates on the same day, and hoped Lucius wouldn't react badly to the fact Evan's was another bloke.


	3. Bonding and Refusal

(Sorry for not updating this for... Um... Two years. Yikes.)

Snape grumpily showered quickly, though it was hard not to relish in the wonderful burn of the hot water. The tap at home offered lukewarm water for about three minutes, before drenching him in freezing liquid. He took a few minutes when he was done to just stand beneath the water, hitting his face softly and enveloping him, before leaving, drying, and dressing in Evan's ill-fitting close. It was a bit loose and looked quite out of place on Snape.  
He walked awkwardly to the lobby, where Evan was seen whispering to a tall, handsome man that, after a moment, Snape recognized as Lucius Malfoy, a posh pratt who had gone to Hogwarts at the same time as Snape, though he was a few years older. He was in magazines a lot.  
Evan looked up at motioned to Snape, who stopped walking a few meters away to hug himself. Lucius turned and smiled cordially, before saying a few more words to Evan and walking away. Snape began walking to Evan again.  
The man put a hand on Snape's bicep and they made eye contact for a minute. Snape wasn't quite sure how he felt about all of this. Evan gave a small, tentative smile, warm but a bit distant, squeezing Snape's arm gently, before swiftly leading him to the elevator.  
"You could stay here if you want," Evan said as the doors closed. Snape hovered, back hunched, hugging himself. "I could book you your own room, or you could stay with me, if you're comfortable. I totally get it if you're not, but I've got the biggest suite, and there's a couple rooms you could take over if you want to live together but aren't quite ready to share a bed… Or I could try to help you get another place, if you're not comfortable with any of this, yet." Snape studied Evan's face, slightly overwhelmed. "Truth be told, I'm not really sure… How we're really supposed to do this. Navigate this."  
"Me neither," Snape said softly. "I never considered you might be a dude,"  
Evan smiled softly. "That must be a bit difficult. I rather like blokes, so, I was pretty hopeful you'd be one."  
Silence, though it was slightly more comfortable, before the elevator opened to a small hallway. Evan led Snape into the one door there was, into a large, open-concept, extremely modern flat. You walked onto a landing, where a long cabinet sat on either side of the door. A concrete step down and you were in the living room, two loveseats, three chairs, and one giant L-shaped sofa. To the left of that was a dining table, giant, with over a dozen seats lining it. Behind that, to the side of the entrance, was an ultra-modern kitchen. A hallway between it and the dining room led to several rooms; in the living room was a single door. The wall across from the entrance was full of windows that had an absolutely stunning view of the Scottish highlands past the small city of Hogsmeade.  
"That door to the right is the master. To the left, two bedrooms, an office, a library, and a guest bath. You're welcome to stay while you figure out what you want to do, as I'd rather you not be homeless, but I understand if it's too fast. I can get you another room, or something, or you could of course leave. I'm not your keeper,"  
Snape nodded. He was torn; he didn't really know if he was comfortable enough to stay, but it was so absolutely beautiful… And taking the offer felt so strange. It was all so very strange.  
"I'm not sure," Snape said softly. "Maybe… We could hang out today, or something? Test the waters, I suppose."  
Evan nodded. "Of course." He motioned Snape in, who tentatively walked to the golden brown sofa, sitting. It was wonderfully soft, but firm enough to be quite supportive. He leaned back and kicked his shoes- Evan's shoes- off, tucking his feet under his bum. Evan sat beside him, not too close, and leaned his head back.  
He was handsome. He looked serene and solemn. Snape leaned his cheek on the back of the sofa. He was soft-spoken, laid-back, seemingly simple.  
"So…" Snape said softly.  
"So." Evan responded, turning and looking at Snape.  
"I don't know what to talk about," Snape said, looking down, picking at his own fingernail.  
"Well," Evan exhaled. "S'your favorite color?" he asked.  
Snape rolled his eyes, but answered anyway. "Emerald green."  
"Mine's orange," Evan said. "Sienna."  
Snape nodded.  
"Your turn," urged Evan gently.  
"Uh," Snape inhaled, then exhaled, sharply. "Your favorite flavor of poptart?"  
Evan chuckled. "Blueberry. Yours?"  
"Peanut butter,"  
"If you could explore either space, or the sea, which would you choose and why?" Evan asked after a long moment of thought. Snape smiled softly and pondered.  
"Hmm…" He grinned. "The sea."  
"And why?" Evan pried after a moment.  
"I'm not sure. It's big and mysterious but… Safer. We know more about it. It's not as big or impossible or far away. It'd be a big achievement, but it's still obtainable. You?"  
Evan smiled, studying Snape with amused eyes. Butterflies danced in Severus' stomach. "Space. You'd never finish, so you'd never be bored, and you'd never stop finding wonderful thing after wonderful thing."  
"I see," Snape said. He, quite uncharacteristically, grabbed hold of Evan's hand and squeezed it, softly. Evan held it back and their fingers danced with one another, and the men giggled softly when they became entangled.  
"I think I'll take a guest room, if that's alright," Snape said a long while later, after they'd continued to chat and amuse one another. It was so weird; they didn't know each other yet, but they had this perfect, infallible assurance that they were, in fact, perfect for one another.  
"Of course," Evan said softly. They were much closer now, Snape's cheek almost on Evan's shoulder, Evan's cheek almost on Snape's head. He looked up, their now-solemn faces so close. For a moment, Snape thought he would kiss Evan, but then suddenly pulled away. Too soon. Evan watched him, silent, before Snape buried his face against Evan's shoulder, so oddly at home and out of his comfort zone, all at once.  
Evan held Snape softly. "Let me know if you get hungry and we can order out or go get something to eat, or something."  
"I could eat," Snape replied.  
"What do you want?"  
"I don't really have the money for-"  
"It's on me, hon," Evan replied. With a sigh, Snape nodded.  
"Alright, well, then you pick."  
"I don't care," Evan countered. Snape sighed again, audibly more annoyed.  
"It's your money, you pick," Snape insisted. Evan sighed as well, and Snape pulled back. They eyed each other, stubborn.  
"I could cook," Evan offered. "But you have to pick, then."  
"Fine," Snape said, shrugging. "What do you have the ingredients for."  
Evan groaned this time, then laughed. "You're impossible."  
"What?" Snape asked, confused but amused. "What?" he repeated when Evan began laughing. The two met eyes, smiling. Snape particularly enjoyed his company.

His car wouldn't start. Peter gripped the wheel, closing his eyes and breathed out, slowly. His car had to start, goddamnit. He turned the key again, to absolutely no avail. He whimpered loudly, desperately cranking the key in the ignition several times before giving up. It was so late. He'd stayed at the shop til close and then, because James and Remus had, goodie for them, found their soulmates, encouraged them to go on, have fun, mingle with each other, Peter had cleaned up and locked the door. Now it was dark, past ten at night, and the cold was creeping in.  
He dialed James. No answer. Sirius picked up, though from the sound of it, he was either drunk or in the middle of receiving head, or possibly both.  
"My car won't start and I'm stuck at the shop, and I don't know what to do," Peter whined, exhausted.  
"S'a number n'my desk called Reg," Sirius mumbled. "Call it." And he hung up. Annoyed, Peter climbed out of the car and stomped up to the door to unlock it. Whatever it was, it better be an auto repairman or mechanic or whatever.  
Unlocking Sirius' office and carefully going through it to find the number without messing it up too bad- Sirius would throw a fit in the morning if he did- Peter eventually found the number and dialed it.  
"Hello, who is this and whatcha want?" a woman with a loose, sloppy accent answered.  
"Ah, my friend told me to call this number- erm, my car broke down and I, uh, need it fixed- I-" Anxiety overwhelmed Peter.  
"Oh, right, right, I'll send him over," she giggled before hanging up. Confused, Peter rang back.  
"Yeah?" she asked.  
"You, uh… Didn't ask where I am?" He said, confused. He heard a low voice in the background.  
"Ah, yeah, yeah- text it- Regulus!" she burst out giggling. Peter stood there, moderately uncomfortable before she hung up again. Tentatively, he typed the address out, then went to wait beside the car, hugging himself.  
Nearly an hour later, just before an exasperated Wormtail was about to ring Sirius once more, an expensive, sleek car pulled up. A tall man climbed out, who looked quite identical to Sirius, and he walked up to Peter and, without a word, grabbed the keys from him and seemingly went to work, occasionally going back to his car grab some tools, or something. Peter, dumbfounded and freezing, hugged himself and panted. A dull hum of music played in the car, and whenever the man opened the door, he heard the woman's voice pour out of it.  
Eventually, the man walked up to Peter. "Look, mate." he started, and Peter tensed. "It's gonna need a lot more work than that. I'll have to bring it up to my shop."  
Peter said nothing, so tense. A lump was in his throat. He shook his head, softly at first, then harshly.  
"No, no. No, no, no, no, no. That simply won't do I- it can't be- I-"  
"Look, it's not that big of a deal, I just-" but then the man stopped and sharply inhaled, as if suddenly struck by something. They eyed each other wearily.  
"No," Peter replied softly.  
"That-"  
"No." Peter said, more clearly. "You look exactly like Padfoot. I-"  
"Who the hell-"  
"I can't be with someone who looks like Padfoot-"  
"Listen-"  
"You've got to go," Peter said decisively. Regulus rolled his eyes.  
"D'you want me to fix your car or not?"  
Peter opened his mouth to say, I certainly do not, good sir, but then he remembered he didn't know any other mechanics and he really, really needed to get home. Peter closed his eyes. "Yes, please."  
"I've got to go get my tow truck- d'you need a ride home, or something?"  
Peter shrugged, then nodded. "Yes, please."  
"Hop in," Regulus said, annoyed, before climbing in the front seat and turning the volume way down. Peter climbed in the backseat, seeing a pretty, half naked girl in front, with dark brown hair in pigtails, bangs framing a gorgeous face. She wore a small, striped tank top and pyjama shorts.  
"His car's gonna need to go into the shop," Regulus said, glancing to the girl beside him. "Gonna drop him off at home, grab the tow, and bring it in."  
"'Kay." She said, then leaned over to kiss him on the lips. They kissed for a long moment and Peter looked away, very uncomfortable. Everything sucked.  
"Where'dyou live?" Regulus asked as he peeled out of the parking lot. Half-heartedly, Peter gave him instructions as they drove to his posh little lake cottage a few miles from town.  
"What a pretty house," the girl cooed. "Got a girl or any babies in there?"  
"No," Peter said, forcing an awkward smile. "Just me."  
"A shame," she said as he climbed out.  
"Thank you. For- yeah."  
Regulus nodded, and Peter walked away, into his house, and collapsed on his couch, too exhausted to make it to the bedroom.  
What a day.


	4. To Lust, To Love, To Long For

Regulus pushed Marlene into the bed, holding her, mouth molding hungrily against hers as she cooed and purred beneath him. He pulled her hair loose and buried his fingers in it, then rubbed his hands up and down her hourglass waist, pulling her shirt up. He yanked it off and she giggled gleefully, then he expertly removed her bra and absolutely worshipped her breasts, kissing and kneading them, groaning into her soft flesh. She said something to him but he was hardly listening, driven by lust and high off his head, he yanked her shorts and knickers down and buried his face between her legs, earning him moans and other pleased sounds and she writhed and bucked against him. Ravenous and insatiable, he pulled back and found her mouth again, tasting her sweet juices still. He quickly fumbled out of his pants and shoved them down to his knees before burying himself in her. He pumped into her, engulfed in her warmth, pleasure flooding every cell in his body. He loved this, loved touching her, loved feeling the insides of a woman- loved feeling. He pounded her and she moaned and gasped and screamed, but he didn't hear her and he didn't care. It wasn't about her- it was never about her. She just felt so goddamned good…

He swelled to orgasm and exploded within her. Growling, he pumped several more times and she creamed on him, clinging to him. When they finished he pulled out and rolled off of her, suddenly repulsed by her touch. He wiped the sweat from his brow and she smiled over at him, giggling, but he ignored her. He yawned, then rolled over, and fell easily to sleep, content.

Alice rested her chin on Frank's shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, a bright grin on her face, as she pressed a hand against his pregnant, albeit flat, stomach. Her smile, however, fell when she looked up into the mirror reflection of them and she saw his distant, saddened eyes staring at himself. She knew the familiar gleam in his eyes; dysphoria. She kissed the bottom of his chin.

"I never thought I'd ever be pregnant," he said softly, smiling sardonically. "I never wanted to be, even before I knew I was trans."

Alice smiled grimly into his shoulder. She'd always wished, desperately, that she could get pregnant. "I know, baby."

There was a painful pause. Nine months, he'd have this. Unless, of course he got an abortion. A giant, piercing pain stabbed Alice's chest at the thought; they'd always talked about children, and they wanted kids. But they'd decided early on that Frank becoming pregnant was not an option.

"It's going to be a long nine months," he said softly, then laughed sadly. Alice kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry it happened like this," she said. He nodded.

"We'll manage. We always do." He turned to her and they embraced, Alice tucking her face into the crook of his neck. "I'll have to stop testosterone, cancel top surgery." He said in a deep, sad, far-away voice.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she offered, squeezing him, holding him.

"I love you, Alice," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you, too," She pulled back. "Could we- like- transplant the embryo, or something? Into a surrogate?"

Frank shrugged. "We can ask the doctor. I'll have to make an appointment, anyway."

"Good," Alice said. "I hope so."

"Me, too," Frank said, then pushed Alice's hair out of her face before gently kissing her nose. "But either way, I can't wait for the baby to get here."

Alice grinned. "I'm gonna be a mommy," she cooed happily, beaming, and Frank chuckled.

"You're gonna be a wonderful mom," he chided, and she spun happily, her long skirt billowing slightly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and put his forehead on hers. They looked into each others eyes; Frank had beautiful, honey-colored irises. "Will you marry me, Alice?" he whispered, so quietly it made tingles rush up her spine. She grinned brightly, and closed her eyes, kissing him long and hard.

"I would absolutely love to marry you, Frank," she replied, and he spun her around, making her laugh, only to dip her and kiss her long and hard.

"I love you so much," he gasped, breathless. She kissed him again.

"I love you, too," she decreed. They kissed more, longer, his hands moving to grip her butt, her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him. They moulded against each other, kissing still, and stumbled to the bed, where they managed to undress. They made love, without a condom for the first time. Even if he wasn't already pregnant, they obviously weren't working, anyway.

Lily was smiling at James as they sat across from one another at a table in the coffee shop. It was a beautiful Tuesday morning, and after the pleasant texts they'd shared after Lily had quite unfortunately had to head to work, cutting their outrageous meeting short, she was quite happy to see him again. He was smiling boyishly back at her, their feet gently rustling below the table. He fiddled with his square glasses before rubbing his mouth, then, tentatively, reaching forward and softly taking her hand in his.

"So," he said quietly. "Lily what Evans?"

"Lily Jane Evans," she replied. "James what Potter?"

"James Henry Potter," he answered, thumb gently rubbing hers.

"I see," she replied, unsure of what to say. She felt like a teenager, giddy and unsure, butterflies tickling her belly. In a burst of confidence, she lurched forward and kissed him hard on the mouth, and after a shocked moment he quickly kissed her back before she settled back into her seat, giggling and blushing. He grinned adoringly at her and kissed her hand softly several times.

They chatted happily over mundane things, like life at Hogwarts where they had both known about each other, but had rarely even seen one another, and their childhood, their favorite experiences, their dreams and goals and aspirations. James' only ambition was growing this shop, bettering it and paying off debts, expanding it a bit before opening maybe a few more. He wanted a family, too, but a small one, maybe one or two kids, but lots of animals. Lily adamantly agreed on having almost a zoo, but also wanted at least three or four little ones. Of course, that little wrinkle didn't need to be settled right away. They'd only just met, and whatever happened, happened.

"What's your life like?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" He asked, now lightly tracing on her open palm.

"What is a day in the life of James Potter? A week?"

He smiled softly, looking off at the wall, jaw working for a moment before he found words. "Well, I wake up at five. I brush my hair, get dressed and all that. I drive to work, get a coffee and some breakfast. We open up, I usually help serve customers- I guess now, that's what I'll mainly do. I work all day, every day. I go home at nine, when we close. I shower, I go to bed, and I start over."

She looked at him, brow slightly furrowed, a sad, confused frown on her lips. "That's all you do?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes, we'll close early or take a day off. I usually go out with Sirius and Peter, or watch some television, or something. What's a day and a week like for you?"

"Well," Lily said. "I wake up at seven, I shower, I usually spend a hot moment with one of my friends- usually Remus, to be honest- and we grab a bite to eat or something before I go to work at noon, to get back home at around nine thirty. Sometimes I go to bed, or watch the telly, or go out to a bar or something with a friend. On Saturdays, I have yoga in the morning, and then art class with Marlene- oh, she's terribly wicked, that one- and then I grab a bite to eat with Remus, and my two friends Alice and Frank. After that, I generally go window shopping, or if I have the money, real shopping, until I get dinner. Sometimes I go by myself or make plans with a friend. Then I go out to a club or a bar, usually with a friend, but I have to be home at a reasonable time because on Sundays I have church, then I just have a chill day at home until dinner, where I head to my mum and dad's down in Cokeworth where we have a family dinner; just me, my parents, my sister Petunia and her husband Vernon. She's pregnant, so in a few more months my niece or nephew will be along as well." He was looking at her, attentive, as she spoke and she smiled when she finished.

"A busy one, you are," he said softly.

"Saturdays could be our date night," she mused. "We could get dinner and then do something fun. And you'll have to start coming with me on Sundays- mum and dad and Tunie simply must meet you. And Vernon, I suppose." Lily said brightly. "Oh, this is so lovely. I've been waiting for you for so long, I wish we could just, like, be in love already," she smiled out. He grinned.

"I know. It's… So odd. You're here, and I feel this- instant connection already. It's like we _should_ already love each other. It's so odd that we don't."

"I _know_ ," Lily agreed. "I have no idea how to navigate this. Like, we know this is right. We know this is perfect. But we aren't there yet. How do we do this? It's like, our parents are already solid by the time we come round. You never really see the start of these things, do you?"

"No," he agreed with a shrug. "Not unless you've got siblings or cousins or something, and I don't."

"Well, Tunie and Vernon are ridiculously old-fashioned. They were engaged within a week of meeting. How crazy! Just moving in someone you just met!" Lily shrugged. "Absolutely ludicrous to me."

James nodded. "And the movies don't help. Most of them end with Soulmates meeting, start close to the wedding, or just rush past the initial adjusting and falling in love."

"Oh, definitely," Lily agreed, nodding. "Definitely." She sucked in a breath, then grinned. "We're so… Similar. We just, mesh. It's so cool."

"I know," he agreed. "I'd never imagined you'd be so… Great," he laughed out. Lily beamed.

"Why, thank you. Although I don't know why you'd expect anything less- you're wonderful, too," she replied, blushing. He grinned, and she opened her mouth to speak just as her watch began to beep.

"Oh, damnit," she breathed. "I have to head to work now-" They both stood up from the table, standing centimeters away from one another. They smiled sheepishly at one another.

"Have a lovely day," He said. She nodded.

"Thank you," she replied, then wrapped her arms around him. He was intensely warm, and he left a kiss on her cheek as he pulled away.

"Do you want me to walk you to your car?" He asked, just as someone walked into the shop.

"I think you've got work you ought to do instead," she said with a small smile. He sighed defeatedly, and she chuckled. "Thank you, though. Have a nice day, too. Text me?"

"Definitely," He replied, then kissed her softly on the lips before, awkwardly, walking to the counter. He called a goodbye to her as she exited, grinning at her, and waved as she pulled out of the driveway, obviously annoying the customer. Giggling to herself, she drove off towards work.


End file.
